Agree to Disagree
by pronk-the-conqueror
Summary: With their arguments becoming more and more predictable, Lily and James turn the tables on each other by becoming...James and Lily. Not in body, but in mindset. With all of their flaws exposed it's only a matter of time before the love shines through.


**A/N:** This story's been sitting in my computer for much too long so I told it to get out and find a job!

**Disclaimer:** I only own the words in my head, not these lovely characters or the world they live in.

* * *

"Absolutely _**RIDICULOUS**_!"

Sirius raised his eyebrows but didn't bother to look up from the Quidditch magazine hidden inside his Potions book. He licked his thumb and flipped the page.

"James, someone's calling for you," he murmured lazily, stretching his legs and finding a more comfortable position on his chair. When there was no response, Sirius kicked the seat next to him.

The bespectacled boy in question snorted and laboriously lifted his head off of his Potions essay that had yet to be written. A string of saliva connected his mouth to the soggy spot covering the parchment. He stared at it blankly.

"Mmm," was all he muttered.

"_**HONESTLY!"**_

"Mmm!" Realization dawned on his face and he stared in alarm at Sirius, who just sighed and flipped another page.

Remus chuckled from where he was projecting an astronomy diagram from his wand.

James stared pointedly at Remus who turned his attention towards the portrait hole. Peter hid his face behind a Herbology book, though his eyes were crinkled with amusement.

"I'm surprised I haven't had a bloody _**HEART ATTACK**_ yet! _**CODDLESWOP**_!"

There was a brief silence before a soft murmuring could be heard if one strained their hearing. Which was what nearly everyone in the room did. Not intentionally, of course.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to shout. The password's Coddleswop. Sorry, again. Yes, thank you. Terribly sorry."

Lily Evans walked through the portrait hole, her cheeks stained red, whether from embarrassment or rage James couldn't tell. He didn't actually have the time to contemplate this quandary. Lily's eyes locked in on James' and he quickly averted his gaze anywhere else. When that plan failed he feinted being busy with his Potions essay—another miserable attempt as his essay was clearly nonexistent. He hurriedly scribbled a few random words down before he spotted two scuffed shoes out of the corner of his eye.

"Can't chat with you, I'm afraid. Got this essay here," he said with authority.

With a quick glance at the drool hanging from James' mouth to the paper it was attached to, Lily promptly grabbed the parchment and stared with narrow eyes.

"The first step in making the Wit-Sharpening Potion involves…Cauldron Cakes, Merlin's shorts, and Exploding Snap. Mm, you're well on your way aren't you, Potter?"

"Well, I'd be even farther if I had my essay back," he said casually, inspecting his quill before looking back to Lily's furious expression. _Here it comes..._

"You're _unbelievable_!" she spat. "I've just spent two hours trying to pull a second year off of a wall on a third floor corridor! Apparently, someone cast a Permanent Sticking Charm on them. Any guesses who?"

James felt comfortable now. The pace of the argument was familiar.

"Try Quincy Dawdles. I heard he's going through a nasty stage of adolescence right now. You know how they get," he offered amiably, though the mischief in his eyes was like a flashing advertisement. Lily was not, nor had she ever been, amused by this.

"Well YOU can tell Quincy Dawdles that I've never met a more-"

"-tactless berk in your life?" James finished, now inspecting his fingernails languidly, arching one eyebrow when Lily stared in indignation. "Hypothetically speaking, had it been me and not poor Quincy who had cast this Sticking Charm then you would rightfully be able to tear me apart with your razor wit."

He proceeded to get up from his seat, stretch his arms out in front of him, and nod cordially to his fellow brethren (Sirius merely flipped another page). "Incidentally, the charm was to catch Peeves and not second-years, though what's the difference these days, am I right?" He turned his head to look at Lily out of the corner of his eye.

She stood bewildered before her expression tightened and she regained her footing.

"Go ahead and act smug, Potter! No matter how wonderful, charming, or sophisticated you think you are you'll always have drool on your face!" She threw the essay down and walked swiftly up the girls' staircase.

James felt his chin with the tips of his fingers and, sure enough, they came in contact with saliva.

"Damn."

"Point Evans," Sirius murmured, his previously indifferent voice was now saturated with laughter.

* * *

Gryffindor third year Quincy Dawdles was a proud member of Hogwarts' Humbugs, a club for those who deemed themselves "wizards" in the kitchen (though the witches in the club hardly thought the motto was very fitting). He had a modest group of friends, disliked Transfiguration, and was allergic to owl feathers. He liked to knit (in absolute secrecy, of course), believed orange was a horrid color, and was considering asking out that Ravenclaw girl Prunella Waterblatt who sat next to him in Divination because her hands were pretty. All in all, he was definitely not one to provoke people to anger. He thought this was certain. Currently, he was enjoying a particularly tasty treacle fudge in the Great Hall.

"Lily Evans wanted me to tell you that she's never met a more tactless berk in her life."

Quincy stopped eating his treacle fudge, his hand halfway to his mouth.

"Come again?"

"Oh, I was just saying that Lily Evans said that she's never met a more ta-"

"-LENTED boy in my life!" James Potter was quickly shoved out of the way and Lily Evans, a tight grin stretched across her face, stood in his place. "My goodness, you are a clever, clever young man. Keep up the good work, will you?" She offered another painful smile. Quincy smiled nervously back, though he couldn't help but notice her expression sour as she turned her attention to James.

"Thanks," Quincy called, watching as the two exited the Great Hall bickering in hushed tones.

He chewed on the fudge slowly, pondering life, school, and women. He wasn't sure if asking Prunella out would be such a good idea anymore, pretty hands or not. The girls at this place were a bit loopy.

* * *

"You're barking mad…"

"Some might say that," he agreed vaguely, stopping at the foot of the staircase and watching Lily plant herself on the first step, solely so she could glare at him eye to eye.

"Potter, you're-"

"Mind-boggling?" he finished with a smirk.

"-frustrating!" she fumed, mentally stabbing him with a thousand invisible daggers.

"Well," James started, owning up to his full height and gaining a few inches on Lily, "you're incredibly predictable sometimes!"

"_I'm_ predictable? That was the best you could come up with?"

James frowned although Lily could already see the gears turning in his head. Whatever plan he was creating, she didn't want to be involved with it.

She began to turn, ready to head up the stairs. Had it not been for the fiver fingers latched around her wrist, she would have been successful.

"You're a berk!"

That's what she would have said, had the words not already tumbled out of James' lips. It took her a second to realize who she was.

"Excuse me?" She pulled away her wrist and faced him fully.

"You were going to say that weren't you?" James said eagerly. Lily's gaze was scorching.

"And then you would have explained to me that I always suck you into these kinds of situations and that I had all the appeal of a smelly sock."

Lily wouldn't have this.

"Sure, Potter. Except you're more of a diseased weasel than a sock. And then you would have proceeded to indifferently lean against the banister, like this," she rested her hip against the stone in leisurely manner, cocking her head up and raising her eyebrow smugly, "and you would've haughtily told me that I was always taking up your time by talking to you like this."

James pouted. Lily felt the satisfaction rush to her face.

It was quickly flushed out of her system when James easily hopped three steps and stared down at her. He cocked his hip and folded his arms, flipping his nonexistent red hair.

"Potter, honestly, if you'd never open your mouth to speak again it'd be too soon. No one likes hearing your voice except you. That's simply my _completely_ objective opinion, nothing more." He batted his eyelashes a few times.

Lily couldn't believe where this argument was going. This was just going to have to be one of those days where she succumbed to playing James' game, if only so she could get the last word in.

Puffing out her chest and squaring her shoulders back Lily lessened the distance between them (in a manly manner, she hoped) by trudging up the stairs with heavy footsteps.

"Hey, Evans," she said huskily, "why don't you take your own advice, eh? Not that your voice isn't musical, but there's no reason to go hoarse everyday spreading your advice." Lily attempted the smirk she'd seen on James' face too many times.

James grinned broadly and returned to a similar stance Lily was in, shoulders back and feet shoulder width apart. "I'm glad we've come to an agreement, Evans. Finally," he laughed.

Lily's masculinity disappeared instantly. Why'd she have to get caught up into this nonsense?

Reaching up, she jabbed a slim finger into James' chest. "Stop involving me in your idiocy." With that, she roughly brushed past him on her way up the stairs.

She didn't even bother to respond when James' called out, "G'bye Potter! Try not to fall over with that head of yours!"


End file.
